


Who's That? (It's Cas)

by swedetastic



Series: BAMF!Cas [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF Castiel, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 00:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swedetastic/pseuds/swedetastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean couldn’t remember being this turned on at all in recent memory. (In which Dean gets his ass kicked and Cas saves him once again)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who's That? (It's Cas)

Dean couldn’t remember being this turned on at all in recent memory. Even the latest issue of “Busty Asian Beauties” had not managed to get his juices flowing quite like the image presented before him. And while that thought alone was bordering on terrifying, given who exactly he was looking at, the forbiddeness of it only managed to turn him on that much more.

This was  _Cas_ that he was looking at after all, his best friend and freaking  _angel of the lord,_ and he wasn’t sure which one of those actually topped the “not allowed to think about in a sexual manner” list. But either way, he was thinking about it and he was already going to Hell anyway. So.

Dean had been in trouble. _Again_. All he wanted was one night of drinking alone. One night away from increasingly pain-in-the-ass little brothers and apocalypses and angels and demons. Especially demons (mostly of the Ruby variety).

So of course that’s when he would get cornered by a pack of them while half drunk and stumbling a bit in the alley beside the dive bar, and since when do demons do anything in  _packs_?! The Apocalypse was nigh, after all.

In his alcohol-induced state he hesitated just a moment too long reaching for Ruby’s knife, and instead of stabbing them to death he was held against the brick wall by two ugly-ass demons while being repeatedly punched in the stomach by an even uglier demon. He was about to vomit on the thing before the sober part of his brain remembered that there was a back-up option.

“Cas!”

Not a second later the force against his stomach was gone, and all Dean saw was a flash of tan trenchcoat before closing his eyes against the assault. He heard the blows being landed but he didn’t really want to open his eyes to watch what was enfolding in front of him.

“Dean, the knife!”

He did open his eyes then while simultaneously reaching for the demon knife hidden in one of his many pockets. Dean saw the two meatheads who had previously held him at bay now curled up in the fetal position on the dirty ground, moaning in pain. Cas held the third one, the meatheadiest of the three, in his grip, but it was a tenuous grip at best and Dean knew he only had a few milliseconds to perfectly toss the knife to Cas before the demon broke free and got the jump on the angel. Luckily, Dean and Cas were so perfectly in sync at this point that it all worked out. A moment later the knife was fully imbedded in the demon’s jugular and its pitiful lifeforce was put out in a flash of blazing light.

Apparently Cas was cut off from the Host, unable to smite the demons outright but still left with enough grace and fighting skills to kick some major demon ass. Dean was beyond grateful for his nerdy angel friend.

There were still two lowlife demons to be taken care of, but they proved no match for the almost graceless angel and his still slightly drunk ward of a hunter. Cas quickly pulled the knife out as the first demon’s meatsack crumpled to the ground, and stabbed the demon closest to him right in the stomach. The third one tried to go after Dean in a last-ditch effort to make his short stint topside worth something, but Dean managed to push him away by the chest and Cas came up behind to stab him in the back.

When the last demon fell to the ground, Dean finally got a good look at his angel and savior. He was covered in blood, both his own and some demon blood as well. He was panting a bit, but otherwise seemed rather unaffected by the preceding fight. And Dean found himself instantly aroused.

What. The. Hell.

“What?” Cas asked, brow furrowed, head tilted. And the innocent act wrapped up in a badass package made Dean harden even more in his pants. _Jesus._ He should just board the train back down to Hell right now.

Dean managed to school the obviously bewildered look on his face into something closer to normal as he answered, “Nothin’ Cas, except that was _awesome_.” He outright grinned then, unable to stop himself.

Cas smirked a little bit. Fucking _smirked._ And that was all it took for Dean to grab him by the lapels of his coat and pull him in for a rather bruising first kiss. Dean pulled back momentarily to see the look of confusion on Cas’s face, but he was beyond the point of being able to stop himself. Next thing he knew he had Cas pinned against the alleyway, his tongue exploring the angel’s mouth. And _fuck_ if those lips weren’t just as soft as any woman’s, the moans coming out of his mouth just as sweet.

That was how Dean found himself dry-humping an “Angel of the Lord” against the wall of a grimy small-town bar and loving every second of it. Dean pressed his hard-on against Cas’s crotch and Cas must have felt how hard he was. Dean _knew_ he must have felt it, because in the next second the angel was gone and he was left frotting against empty air.

Apparently even demon-killing angels got stage fright. Dean cursed. 

He was left alone in the alley with an uncomfortable boner and a bad case of blue balls. He contemplated going back into the bar in an attempt to pick up whatever horny chick he could find, but settled instead on the somewhat safer option of making his way back to the motel to jerk off in the bathroom while thinking only of blue eyes and a trenchcoat covered in blood.

Dean was so _fucked_.

**Author's Note:**

> "[Dean would] be attracted to someone who walked in the door, slaughtered everybody and walked out, and then he would say, 'Who's that?'" - Eric Kripke


End file.
